We know one another by how we move 

I know you by how you take up space 
The eyes of men see the movement 
But we both know the reason for our gait. 
 
I know myself because I know that subtle expression 
That says ‘I have lived your life with you,’ 
Under her eyes, I’d gladly feel the universal pain 
To return the expression, ‘you can see my movement, too?’
 
My reflection is not your qualifying statement 
Unless you start at the self, then look at the other
Appearance rather than experience is the standard 
Understanding is the heart the matter of our walk.